


when the dust settles

by CherFleur



Category: DC Extended Universe, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alien Zombie Apocalypse (important distinction), DCU Rarepair Exchange, First Kiss, Future OT3, Gen, Getting Together, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Sharing a Bed, We take bits and pieces of canon and throw the rest away, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26658796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherFleur/pseuds/CherFleur
Summary: It was probably the end of everything and most of Jason's attention was split between actively plotting Roy's murder and feeling like his heart was going to pop out of his chest when Wally called.ORSomehow, the actual end of days managed to get a few idiots to admit that they have these things called feelings.
Relationships: Hal Jordan & Jason Todd, Hal Jordan & Wally West, Jason Todd & Wally West, Jason Todd/Wally West
Comments: 19
Kudos: 46
Collections: DCU Rarepair Exchange 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starbboy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbboy/gifts).



> Your Giftee for the DCU Rarepair Exchange is starboyisalantern.  
> They have requested Hal/Guy, Jason/Wally, and Jason/Hal as their rarepairs. Their ratings are Safe-for-work. Their triggers include:  
> Suicide, Self-Harm, Death, Unrequited Love, Gore, Addiction  
> Their wishlist suggestions are:  
> Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Sharing a Bed, First Kiss, Secret Relationship or Secret Marriage

He missed his shitty old mattress on the ground of one of his shitty warehouses.

Okay, to be fair, he missed just about everything that this shitty past him had had. Like Big Belly Burger and new episodes of those soaps that Kori had gotten him hooked to when he’d broken his leg.

Stupid apocalypse. Couldn’t manage to be conveniently taken care of with like a week of fighting and some self-righteous declarations from the Justice League. What he wouldn’t give for Wonder Woman to come swinging onto the premises yelling about being Princess of Themyscira and them magicking the shit outside away.

Hell, he’d take Captain Marvel lighting up like a plasma globe fucked a lava lamp and proclaiming that brain demons were rude.

Rolling his shoulders after clearing out another cluster of weird alien zombies, he waved at Mrs. Catherine, and the once-schoolteacher waved back cheerily. This was, of course, a mistake as it alerted the gremlins at her feet to his presence and they immediately staged a revolt.

He had enough time to brace himself and be glad he hadn’t gotten anything on him before the child-shaped torpedoes attacked. The things that he put up with for the sake of humanity and the spawn that he had to care for.

The sacrifices he made, honestly.

“Jason’s back, Jason’s back!”

“Ah shit,” the kids expertly avoided the guns strapped to his legs and the batons on his back as they climbed him. “Hey, hey, watch what you’re using as a foothold!”

Jason’s primary use in the alien zombie apocalypse was as a jungle gym when he wasn’t the purveyor of candy and toys. At least to _these_ little brats.

He’d had worse jobs, not that he’d _tell_ them that.

The admonishment just got him laughter and the smallest kid, Maddie, tucked her legs around his neck and leaned against his helmet. Several times people had told him to remove his armor at the door, but he needed it to survive the enthusiasm of the brats attacking him. Vicious little gremlins, all of them, they’d go for blood if he didn’t have something between them to protect him from their violence. And their stabby little joints.

He’d been hit with tire irons that hurt less than adolescent knees.

Sweet old Mrs. Catherine made her way over and carefully disentangled a few of the more enthusiastic little shits from his gear. The older woman was the nicest person amongst them, Jason was pretty sure.

This lady had the patience of a saint.

She’d given up on getting him not to swear at the kids by lecturing him, she just gave him a vaguely Alfred-like disappointed look instead. Ugh, too effective.

Jason hoped they never compared notes. He wouldn’t survive a double whammy and he’d already died once.

“Alright, alright,” she said, ushering the disappointed kids back to their lesson. “Let’s let Jason relax and finish our lesson. Math doesn’t wait for you, you know!”

“Yes, Mrs. Catherine!”

Ugh, creepy little drones.

If he found them waiting in the hallway children of the corn style again he was going to have a _new_ nightmare and he wasn’t about that.

Jason firmly ignored the grin hidden behind his helmet even as the schoolteacher reached up to gently give him a pat on the shoulder to see him off. Best not to show any sort of positive energy around these little shits, they’d use any excuse.

“Roy is on radio duty for Captain Patrick,” she informed him before stepping away. “He had one of his migraines again.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

He stopped off at his makeshift armory to get rid of his gear and rinse off the sweat that accumulated underneath. Repurposed locker rooms worked for more than just showers in the alien zombie apocalypse were rather convenient. Finding locks for all the lockers to keep sticky fingers out had been a pain, but better that than the horror story of one of the little shits getting their hands on his guns.

Someone had done inventory again and pinned a note to his main storage locker; apparently they were low on that lotion for eczema the Losoya kids needed.

While Jason and his ragtag group of survivors weren’t hurting for supplies, they would periodically get sent out on runs. A lot of the Justice League storage facilities were inaccessible because the weird alien zombies were attracted to large energy outputs. Sure, they didn’t like, attack power stations and start nomming, but they tended to congregate in areas with more electrical output.

He was still toweling off his hair – which was getting a bit long, ugh – when he stumbled into the communications room and waved at Roy. His best friend was once again having the puppies vs kittens debate with Kori over the comms rather than being useful. Again. They never got anywhere with it, but they liked to do it so who was Jason to judge his weird ass friends?

Okay, he judged them pretty fucking often and to their faces – Roy’s face, Kori from a distance – but this was silly.

The answer was obviously _both_ , the fools.

Why choose cutest animal when you can just have _all_ of the animals; the only thing he and the demon brat agreed on. Not that Jason would ever _tell_ him that.

Still, it was always good to hear her voice and feel that one ball of stress unwind at the knowledge that his best friend hadn’t met a gruesome end since he’d last spoken to her. When the quarantine had first started separating planet bound and space bound, she’d nearly broken out of the Watchtower to get to them.

He was glad that she hadn’t, in the end. Despite how shit her life had been, Kori still believed in the goodness of people in bad situations. Jason and Roy knew better, and it didn’t disappoint them in the same way it would her.

“Hey, Kori, Jason’s back!” the redheaded menace said with a grin, a new scar on his chin splitting the stubble on his jaw ridiculously. “It’s time to relinquish my rights to your glorious voice and allow you to communicate with the grumpiest asshole of the mask variety.”

“Bitch,” Jason muttered, making a face that _wasn’t_ tinged with affection at his best friend. “Get out. Go shave, you look disgusting. Hobo.”

“Nerd.”

Still, with a pat on the shoulder as they switched out and Jason sat down in the vaguely uncomfortable chair and grimaced at the leftover warmth, Jason could say it wasn’t the most terrible time in his life. He’d had it worse before civilization found the brink of extinction and decided to live there. And didn’t that just say something about him?

It hadn’t been _awful_ , really, since they’d managed to get contact with the Watchtower just under two months into the apocalypse. Now they knew that things were happening out there, that there was a chance for change as things progressed outside the Earth.

Even if it didn’t seem like it. Even if there was no end in sight for this _particular_ doomsday event.

Apparently, it wasn’t just their shithole of a planet that was affected by the alien zombie plague – hence the _alien_ – and the Green Lanterns were coordinating to find the source and end it. It wouldn’t help the people already infected, probably, but it would stop the spread of whatever bullshit space magic death virus – _whatever_ – that had covered the known universe.

There was a part of Jason that would miss the simplicity of survival over societal norms, but he was self-aware enough to know that was a _bit_ fucked up.

They all were, but it wasn’t as if he had been living a normal life before this, anyway.

 _Jason_ had never flinched from having to take out an infected the way that regular people had, the way that the Replacement had. Maybe there was something broken in Jason, but he hadn’t flinched from pulling the trigger even once.

“Hello, Jason,” Kori spoke warmly, and he could picture her smiling face and brilliant hair even if he couldn’t see her. Her being stuck up on the Watchtower and off planet was one of the worst things about the apocalypse, even as it was one of the best. “It’s good that you have returned unharmed.”

Honestly, he loved Kori, but she had learned _way_ too much sass from hanging out with him and Roy and he was not about that. Well, when it was at his expense anyway.

“You fall off a roof into a dumpster surrounded by zombies _one time,_ ” he complained good naturedly, the sting gone from that story. The adrenaline and fear that had been there washed away by laughter and his asshole friends. “Hey, how’s everyone in Casa Green?”

“Well,” she started thoughtfully. “Guy Gardner punched Oliver this morning as they fought over the last box of blueberry pop tarts.”

Oh, that explained Roy’s good mood. Well, other than how he got when he spoke to Kori in general, anyway. She had that effect on people who _weren’t_ infatuated with her, too.

The last time Roy had been so chipper Dinah had suplexed Oliver because he’d eaten her chocolate covered almonds during a midnight snack hunt.

“Diana and I sparred, and she cracked three of my ribs with a holding maneuver that she’s agreed to teach me –“

Sitting back, Jason smiled and relaxed.

Yeah, the world might be shit, but there were still good things out there. More than the scattered little specks of organized humanity living like country bumpkins to keep the infected away.

Sometimes, there was living vicariously through Kori as she fulfilled her fantasies of getting owned by Wonder Woman.

He didn't make the rules, this was just the way it was.

A familiar, almost static tingle as the comm fritzed jarred him out of a retelling of how Dick had woken up in Constantine’s coat after a night of drinking. As if they needed _more_ proof that the world was ending; sleeping with Constantine was never a good idea. It lowered life expectancy _exponentially_. Fucking Constantine, honestly. Dick’s midlife crisis was a terrifying thing to behold.

Even if he hated to admit it, his heart thumped a little with excitement because the only reason their comms did that particular buzz was because –

“Hello, Wally,” Kori sounded amused at the interruption, volume shifting slightly as she turned towards the man who’d entered the communications room of the Watchtower with her. “Is it time to change shifts?”

“Yup!” was the cheery reply through the speaker, a tad too fast in his excitement. “Sounds like there’s gonna be a meeting about checking out the next sector in an hour or two. A bit ahead of schedule but Guy said that John said that _Hal_ said they’d found something almost promising. Oh, and Clark was looking for you!”

“Thank you, Wally. Goodbye, Jason. I’ll speak to you again soon.”

“Bye Kori. Go let Diana break your ribs again.”

“Gladly,” she laughed.

The comm fritzed again in the way that meant Wally had used his super speed too near their very touchy electronics.

The connection between the Earth and the Watchtower was finicky at the best of times because of the giant green shield that the Lanterns had put up. All planets containing sapient life had them, apparently, generated by swiftly fabricated Oan satellites powered by Lanterns. To keep desperate people from trying to leave atmo and infecting whatever poor soul out in the void they came across.

Because this weird alien virus only infected people planet-side, and there hadn’t been any cases of people in space getting it. They’d had a few outbreaks from people _fleeing_ their planets in panic and infecting stations, but now the quarantine was in full effect.

If they’d been in the black of space at the time, they were infection-free; it didn’t make sense.

Not that Jason made much sense out of stupid space magic in the first place, but there were supposed to be people who were good at figuring this shit out. Hell, even the Replacement hadn’t come up with some fantastically improbably theory to cure everyone yet.

“Hey Jay!” the speedster blurted in his usual happy manner, and Jason _didn’t_ flush at the sound of it. Fuck _you_ internal voice that sounded like Dick. “No dumpsters this time?”

God _fucking_ damnit.

“One time! It was _one_ time!”

Joking with Wally was easy because Wally was the Flash, yeah, but he was also a big fucking idiot that he’d once watched with all the insistence of a teenage crush. Jason had even once seen Wally super speed slip on ice and crash through a wall and yell “I meant to do that!”. Might be a big League name now that Barry Allen was gone – although Jason didn’t hold much stock in people _staying_ dead in this business – but he was still the guy who gave himself a concussion.

It was easy to talk to Wally.

Jason wasn’t exactly a people person – he could fake it well enough – but he got drained by human interaction most of the time. Wally though… it was different.

He remembered the way that he and Dick would get into nerd-offs about weird shit and then dare each other to drink things through their noses when they were younger. How on occasion while waiting for Dick and Bruce to finish having a shouting match Wally would gripe about English Lit and let Jason educate him proper, before helping him with his chemistry because fuck those formulas, okay?

He remembered the way that Wally had grinned brilliantly at the first sight of Jason after he’d shaken some of the Pit from his head, how warm his hug had been, how surprising. Even if Jason might have flinched and stiffened, unused to the contact, the feeling of humming energy and _life_ zinging through the speedster had been a balm he hadn’t known he’d needed.

He remembered sitting on the opposite side of one of Dick’s many hospital beds and sharing shit coffee, worried for the stupid hero who barely wore body armor. The once Boy Wonder who they both regrettably loved despite all of the grief he caused them with his too sacrificial heroics.

There were jokes about people raised by the Bat and redheads, and he couldn’t just shove that off onto Bruce, Dick, and Tim anymore. Or even the demon brat and that one kid he snuck out to see. Fucking apocalypse giving him time to come to terms with his fucking crush and his stupid emotions the way his repression had been staunchly avoiding.

Not that he was going to _admit_ to that.

“Set anything on fire today?” Jason asked, sipping a warm mug of tea that Alfred would have looked at with horror and _him_ with disappointment. “Y’know, because you got too excited and vibrated –“

Mental Alfred was shaking his head sadly at the way Jason left the tea bag in the water passed steeping time. Honestly, how did he manage that without even _being_ there?

“Okay, okay, I get you!” It sounded like he was smiling, and Jason could almost picture the freckles and the slightly crooked bottom teeth. “Jeez, you don’t have to strike me where it hurts.”

“Not my fault you found out you could get drunk on magic alcohol and told us all your dirty secrets.”

“Themyscira wine is the best,” Wally sounded so nostalgic, a bit wistful, and it made Jason’s heart hurt a little. “But no. No speed blunders lately. Especially now that I’m wearing an inhibitor half the time to control my metabolism. You know how it is.”

Wincing, Jason stared down at his weak American tea and grimaced, swallowing around the thickness in his throat to try and find a normal tone again.

Agriculture was possible in space. There were plenty of biomes still out there that were willing to trade, but resources were scarce, and a speedster metabolism was definitely not a good thing to have out there. It didn’t help that they couldn’t take Wally down with them on the few ground missions they were undertaking. Something about the Speed Force drew the infected to him, something about the electrical impulses in his body made him look like a snack.

Not that he wasn’t a – _well_. Monster bait was only so useful, especially when it took so many resources to properly use.

The practical, ruthless part of him trained by the League of Assassins understood that, and so did his Bat training. The kid from Crime Alley, though… He remembered that feeling of trying to stay useful in a world that was damned hard to be accepted in. Remembered working himself to the bone for food, for money, and then finding a home with Bruce and Alfred and thinking if he wasn’t useful he might lose that.

Still had, but not because he hadn’t _earned_ it.

He knew now he hadn’t needed to, but it hadn’t seemed like it at the time.

Wally was a smart guy – stupid smart – but he was also just as fucked up as the rest of the younger vigilantes were these days.

“How you holdin’ up with that?” He asked. “Still getting those headaches?”

“Not as badly,” Wally admitted. “But J’onn’s been helping me manage my pain levels and Hal’s been a bud and taught me a few pressure points to help me avoid migraines. Doesn’t always work, but I make do. It’s not too terrible, really. Why, I'd say it’s downright tolerable!”

Setting down his now empty mug of stale tea, Jason leaned back in the creaky chair and ignored the squirming in his guts. Why did talking to the person he had – ugh – _feelings_ for have to feel both awful and awesome at the same time?

“Has Guy tried to make a mess of the kitchen again yet?”

“By pain of Clark’s disappointed face, no. But I think he’s working his way up to it. Something about applesauce cake that even I’m a little weirded out by.”

“Applesauce? What the fuck?”

“I don’t know, man, it was apparently in some magazine he found in the Tower and now he wants to play Martha Stewart.”

“How? He has no Snoop Dog!”

“That’s what I said!”

Chatting with Wally was fun and easy even if it made his emotions do stupid things like pull up childhood crushes from way back when. At least he wasn’t all red faced and awkward in front of Kid Flash like he’d been as Robin, trying to be cool after a mishap with a badly shot grapple.

After Wonder Woman – his one true hero – he’d always had a soft spot for the Flashes. They were the nice type of heroes that Gotham had never managed to grow; not even Dick really fit the bill, with that restrained rage in him.

It didn’t hurt that Wally had grown up to be really kinda ripped, with a runner’s ass and legs for fucking _days_. Being dead and then basically a murder zombie himself didn’t make Jason blind even when he’d been on his crazy spree killing kick.

Still, Jason was only human, and he couldn’t go as long awake as a speedster could, even a partially collared one.

He needed sleep.

“Hey,” he yawned, glancing at the time after they went through some rote updates on weather reports and the other bunkers. “Andy should be up here soon to watch the comms, but I’m beat.”

“Oh, okay, yeah,” maybe Jason was imagining it, but Wally sounded like he wilted. “I bet Guy will want to talk sports. I’ll page him up.”

“Remind me that you need to finish the story of Hal getting his ass handed to him by a twelve-year-old space prince and his poodle thing.”

A bright laugh filtered through the comms, fuzzing a little again as Wally no doubt vibrated in place and Andy knocked on the doorframe with a raised brow.

Jason knew he was smiling, and despite the ache in his cheeks, he let himself enjoy it.

“Alright, here’s Andy, Wally. Talk at ya later.”

“Yeah, night Jay!”

~

Looking up at the green-tinged sky, Jason sighed with all the emphasis of his continued existential dread.

It was looking to be one of those days.

“Oh shut up,” Roy grouched from next to him, fiddling with his arrows with thinly veiled embarrassment. “There was no way I could have known that someone infected crawled into the ceiling.”

“Why is there _always_ a window for you to crash through? Why are we always falling off of things?”

“At least it wasn’t a dumpster?”

Turning to glare at Roy through his helmet wasn’t particularly effective, but he was pretty sure it got his point across. As did the slightly squelching smack to the archer’s shoulder that set him stumbling to the side.

“And a nasty pool that hasn’t been cleaned in over half a year is _better_? Did you see not see the corpse bits in there? Because I did.”

Turning a bit green at the reminder, Roy spit off to the side and shuddered with a grimace. Jason hoped he was fully horrified by the idea of getting corpse stuff in his mouth.

At least they knew that you couldn’t get infected by biting _back_ already, otherwise this would be much, much worse.

Not that _how_ they knew wasn’t bad enough.

Roy tilted his quiver upside down and sludge slid out into the momentary silence.

God their lives sucked.

“Okay, yeah. It was gross, I admit it.”

“Yeah, like I was gonna let you –“

“Hey, I’m trying to be the bigger man here –“

“Bigger pain in my _ass_ is what you are –“

“I’ll show _you_ a pain in the ass –“

Both of them paused, a sound carrying faintly on the wind that was only too familiar, settling grimly in their bones.

Someone was screaming.

“Which way’s the wind blowing –“

“Probably half a mile that way –“

Back to work.

Even the apocalypse didn’t stop some things, and a good half the time it wasn’t zombies that people were running from, but other people. Just because the world had ended didn’t mean that humanity had decided to stop being pieces of shit.

It just gave them more _excuses_.

~

Sometimes it was the little ridiculous things that kept them going.

Finding the humor in not at all actually funny situations was all one could do when the world was ending by inches. It was Wally finding the stupid shit that the League trapped up in the Tower did on a daily basis and spinning it for entertainment. It was Jason wanting to strangle Roy and also bent in half laughing his ass off because some people belonged in movies.

It was either laugh or have a mental breakdown, and that was scheduled for the _next_ apocalypse, thanks.

Repression was the name of the game, folks.

“– so it turns out that this little kid _really_ wanted to get a special gift for her mom, right?” He’s regaling Wally with their latest excursion, ice pack on his shoulder – fucking _window_. “And she slips away to check out a nearby department store for something _sparkly_ because _why not_ apparently! In that time, she was apparently chased by a gang of very hungry street dogs, got pecked by a very angry sparrow, and _then_ got trapped under a car for like an hour.”

“Oh my god,” Wally was wheezing, but like he was trying not to laugh. Not like his panic attack wheezing, very different whistle in that. “Oh my _god_.”

“Yeah, right? A comedy of fucking errors. Anyway, about the time that Roy became well acquainted with what used to be an office boy who had curled up in a vent to die, she decided that this was maybe a bad plan. But she’s managed to get this far, right? Doing pretty well for herself as a ten-year-old with a crowbar and light up sneakers. She just – okay, an aside here – this kid is like she belongs in a comic or something, I swear to god. You know what she was wearing?”

“What?”

“A purple sweater with one of those Lisa Frank horse abominations, those pompom hair ties, a grungy green tutu over cargo pants. Like. What the fuck? Who dresses their kid like that in the apocalypse?”

“I guess the kind of woman who would raise a kid who thinks it’s a good idea to go steal jewelry in the apocalypse.”

“I mean, yeah,” Jason took a bite of his sandwich, shifting his ice pack. “Okay, so while Roy is screaming like a little _bitch_ about zombies in the ceiling – alerting every shitstain on the fucking floor – she’s decided to make a break for it. She downs some zombies by taking out the knees –“

“Smart kid.”

“– and – Right? Fucking great tactics – and then she starts playing the floor is lava, but with cars. Then, of course, at this point, Roy is falling _out_ of the ceiling and I’m trying to barricade a door that has seen better days. The only fucking exit, which is just our luck. So of course, as an idiot of the Arrow lineage, he decided to –“

“Oh, he jumped out the window!”

“– he jumped out the _fucking_ window! Glass everywhere, still fucking screaming and I’m just like standing there. All I could think was, _Is this really happening right now? Am I hallucinating? Did Roy just fall out of the ceiling with a tiny office zombie and dive out a fucking window two stories up?_ And no, no it _was_ , unfortunately, actually fucking happening.”

On the other end of the line, Hal – who had a very distinct laugh and had apparently come in at some point – and Wally were laughing, and Jason felt heat simmering like pleasure in his gut next to his incredulousness.

It was nice, making people laugh, being able to give a little bit of good when there was so much _shit_ going on.

Other than Kori and Roy, he hadn’t had people he made laugh, not in years.

“And I can’t hold this shitty barricade on my own, no matter how good I am. Not if I want to actually keep some of the shit in the room intact, right? It’s one of the few pharmacies that actually still has shit in it. And you know what I have to do?”

“You –“ Hal was still laughing as Wally struggled with words. “You jump out the window?”

“I jump out the _fucking_ window without any fucking gear like a goddamn Star City Christmas-themed horror. And you know what we fell into? The nastiest fucking pool I’ve ever been in, and I’ve been dunked in Lazarus Pits, I kid you not.”

Another vicious bite of sandwich and a swig of water. He was going to make Roy get him a new ice pack soon enough.

Fucker.

“So back to our tiny crowbar badass of the bad decisions. She’s actually doing alright while we slog through people sludge, and Roy has finally found something worse than dumpster day. I will never let him forget it.”

He paused to drink more water and eat a couple more bites, as both Hal and Wally on the other end caught their breath with vague snickering.

“So what happens next?” Hal asked, voice quirked with genuine enjoyment. He didn’t sound as tired as usual, and Jason hoped he got some sleep because Wally worried about him. “Because crowbar and sweater kid seems to have it handled.”

“Well,” he swallowed. “You see, her mom tried to follow her. Mom is not nearly as much of a badass as this kid is, let me tell ya. She got herself cornered in an alley by some zombies and her kid is fending them off with her crowbar by the time we get there. Probably could have handled it all on her own if need be. Give this kid a medal or something.”

“Go crowbar kid,” Wally cheers. “Kick zombie ass!”

“Are we supposed to encourage this?” The Green Lantern wondered idly, more of that tiredness in his voice eased off by mirth; the Lanterns were basically always on call these days. “I mean, only one badass kid I know was up to the task of busting the tires off the Batmobile with a tire iron, but that was during non-apocalypse hours.”

Jason was _not_ blushing at the compliment, and there was no one around to contradict him, so there. How was it he had the most positive interaction with people during the actual fucking apocalypse? Really? Talk about shitty luck.

At least Wally wasn’t making noise about his bench press weight again, because he felt like his face was melting every time he brought it up.

“Yeah! Hey, Jay, is she your new protégé? Gonna teach her to boost cars and kick bad guy ass? She’s already got zombies covered, apparently.”

“Shut up, no,” he denied firmly, because Roy had been making awfully similar noises at him about this as well. “I have zero desire to deal with messing up a kid when I don’t even know how adults are supposed to function.”

Zero desire to be Batman 2.0 in any way, shape or form.

“I bet she intimidates him,” Wally said with utmost seriousness, clearly speaking to Hal. “He drinks his respect women juice so much it makes him fear small children.”

“Maybe it’s more along the lines of children are terrifying hobgoblins who _everyone_ should fear,” was the Lantern’s dry reply. “I know taking on fully grown rookies is bad enough, I couldn’t imagine dealing with someone prepubescent and in the zombie _apocalypse_.”

“Alien zombies,” Jason corrected absently. “This is weird space magic. We have to be clear.”

“Oh, if it’s for the sake of _clarity_.”

~

It happened when he was out alone, which was his first mistake. Roy had a head cold and couldn’t stop sneezing and taking anyone else out with him was always a gamble.

They’d decided early on that alone was a bad plan with the alien zombie problem, and the farther you roamed the worse an idea it was. Small jaunts were okay, something that was basically just a perimeter check. Not full on supply runs.

Jason always was good at fucking up a good thing, so why would this be different?

So he went out alone. They’ve gotten pretty low on winter clothes and it’ll take multiple trips to get everything they need to set up the place proper. The cold of autumn didn’t seem to bother the alien zombies much, but it sure didn’t help Jason’s dexterity any.

It’s the cold that does him in, in the end.

Fucking rookie mistake.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knowing your own feelings doesn't automatically make someone else's clear.
> 
> OR
> 
> Being a Flash with a hankering for the most lethal ex Bat was just as tricky to deal with as you'd think.

This was probably one of the worst spans of time since the apocalypse started.

Wally couldn’t help but vibrate in place every time someone shook their head as they left the communication station. That wasn’t the official name, of course, but it was what he’d been calling it, and much to Bruce’s exasperation the name had stuck.

He and Hal had fist bumped when Clark had first said it, the look on his face when he’d _realized_ what he’d said was hilarious.

Wally… Wally wasn’t laughing right now.

Most of the time he could find something to laugh about, even if it was perhaps more morbid than what other people found amusing. He’d take what he could get considering the world was for real falling apart and he was living in the biggest hamster cage ever invented, which he unfortunately called home.

Even if it was pathetic giggling from being overtired and joking with an exhausted Green Lantern, or about a near death experience down below, Wally had found laughter.

He didn’t want to lose that.

Every denial of news regarding his friend down on the surface, every glance of almost pity from his colleagues – people who’d helped raise him – was another stone settled in his stomach. Each time he had to sit quietly in the communication station with a grief stricken civilian on the other end of the comms was a sharp pain in his chest.

It dug a little deeper, the gaping hole of reality, when he woke up to the realization that he still didn’t know if Jason was alive or dead.

That no one knew anything.

It had been nearly a week since anyone had heard from Jason, and Roy had gone out to look for him twice since then. Twice, and he hadn’t found him yet. He couldn’t range far because despite how well armed they were, Roy and Jason were the only heroes on site. A few of them, like Andy, Jonas and old Captain Patrick were retired military, and one of the old ladies named Rhonda was a _mean_ softball player back in the day, but that was it.

Most of their population at that site were civilians young and old, all soft and in danger of being consumed by the evil outside their door.

Crowbar kid, aka Miranda, had volunteered and been vetoed because she was _ten-years-old._ Brave but also what the fuck, _no_.

Despite the fact that Jason, even though he lacked powers, was one of the most dangerous people he knew, Wally couldn’t help the cold sink of dread in his stomach. Couldn’t help the way that his legs shook with the need to run and his heart pushed too fast in his chest with a desire to _do something_ when he felt so useless.

Who was Wally if he couldn’t even help his friends? What kind of hero was he?

Since they’d found out how the infected were drawn to people with the Speed Force, to people who had a higher electrical output, Wally had been benched. Benched and bound and basically stuck in place like a very red doorstop that occasionally told jokes to try and lighten the mood of awful that filled the gloomy Tower.

Part of _his_ bright point was talking to his friends down on good old Earth and Kyle when he was in. When Hal showed up and took him for a flight around the Tower, or for a spin around the outside of the green shield around Earth. Hearing Dick was running an impromptu gymnastics class at his shelter, and all the kids loved him. Roy was always finding ridiculous ways to make Jason’s life hell in the funniest ways and flirted badly with Kori.

Jason was –

Jason _was_.

He was a lot of things, and not all of them good but that didn’t stop Wally from perhaps tripping over his own metaphorical feet at the thought of him.

Okay, to be clear, Wally liked to think that he was pretty in touch with his emotions. That he understood himself pretty well after all of his tests as a teen superhero and then with getting swallowed and spat back out by the Speed Force. Seeing his own shrine was not good for his mental health, and he’d taken precautions after that.

He frequently spoke to mental health professionals about the various traumas he’d dealt with, including his assumed death and captivity in the Speed Force for what felt like eons. Sometimes J’onn and he spent days picking at his mental defenses by faces his weaknesses, and that took _work_.

Wally knew himself well enough to say that he maybe had something of an interest in his best friend’s younger not-quite-adopted brother. Maybe more than an interest and he would kind of like to date him more than a little. Like a lot, actually.

Yeah, he had it kinda bad.

He didn’t – he didn’t know if Jason fell anywhere comparable on the emotional spectrum, but they were at least friends. They spent long nights on comms talking about the weird shit of the apocalypse and how awful everything was. They talked about the bizarre things that survived, that one guy who was viciously looking for Twinkies and played mean guitar. They talked about Roy and Kori being sappy from an atmosphere away and Dick’s bad life choices continuing to spectacularly blow up in his face.

Sometimes they talked about nightmares, but usually they distracted each other from the darkness.

It was a comfort, a solace in this floating prison that Wally had found himself trapped in, to close his eyes and feel like he was right there next to Jason during whatever ridiculous story he was telling. That he was anywhere but the ‘safety’ of the Tower that he wished he could abandon for the freedom of movement on a planet. Any planet. Hell, he’d take the _literal_ hell world that Hal had told him about.

He’d take wearing the inhibitor all the damn time if he could just _run,_ no super speed, just. Run.

God, Wally was so trapped, and he didn’t even have a hamster wheel to spin to make him feel like he was _doing_ something, even superficially.

The track in the Tower had been converted into storage, and there were so many Green Lanterns that frequented the base on and off that it was pointless to move anything. He’d learned that it just made things inconvenient for the others to have to move things back as needed, and Wally already felt like enough of a burden.

Wally was going stir crazy, and hearing about Jason and Roy’s awful adventures was the highlight of his weeks, his days.

And Jason was _missing_.

There weren’t any stupid stories from their own resident Bill and Ted when half of the equation had disappeared.

Jason had gone out to make sure that the pharmacy that Roy’s epically bad window jumping had crashed was secure, as well as to pick up winter gear for the kids. When the League had been supplying these emergency shelters in the beginning, they hadn’t been planning for so many children. In hindsight, of course kids would last longer, be more adaptable to the sudden changes in the world.

Of course the kids would be protected even by strangers.

Most of the good people, the truly, genuinely decent folks, had gone in the first wave, protecting the next generation. The few pockets they had left were being defended by the heroes, vigilantes and metahumans down below. The Watchtower wasn’t in contact with all survivors, but they could detect the infected vs the uninfected, and there was a heartening amount of people left on Earth.

They’d saved a lot of people from both zombies and renegade assholes who reveled in anarchy and the ‘end of the world’ aesthetic. It was Mad Max out there all around the world. Well, except for Kahndaq.

Which of a surprise to absolutely no one.

Teth Adom was one scarily efficient guy, sometimes, now that Captain Marvel had freed him from weird magic possession or whatever. It was confusing in so many ways and Wally left that to the others to deal with because magic was not on his radar. The same as it wasn’t on Jason’s, normally.

 _People_ Jason could handle.

Alien zombies, Jason could handle.

Both?

Wally would put down a whole fresh tray of cookies to say that Jason could take anyone that life threw at him with a knife and an attitude, but. But zombies tended to congregate around areas with more people, and without the defenses of the shelters to keep them out, hordes sometimes pushed into less secure places. If Jason had been trying to help someone and decided the only way was to sacrifice himself…

He’d been raised by the Bat. Wally had firsthand experience that Bruce Wayne was a good, if flawed, man, and a well-meaning one as well, but he couldn’t figure out how to be a father. He tried his best, and sometimes he had his moments, but… all of his kids had their issues. Most of the issues that were indented into their personalities were Batman-shaped.

Jason would sacrifice himself just as quickly as Dick or Tim would, and he’d do it with that _stupid_ inferiority complex that Bruce had unknowingly ground into him. Into all of them, as well as a biting need for _perfection_ in their work.

One of the things that Wally and Jason _didn’t talk about_ was Bruce, and that in itself was telling.

There was a lot to unpack there, and even if growing up beside the first Robin gave Wally a certain kind of perspective into Batman, it didn’t make him understand him. It didn’t mean that the mess between Bruce and Jason was in any way his business, especially when he had to work with the man.

It seemed the kind of thing that you’d talk about in person, anyway, and – and with Jason missing that was… was…

Tongue thick in his mouth and hands a blur of motion as he tapped his fingers together nervously, Wally barely noticed when Hal entered the room.

Normally, he tried to make sure that his Green Lantern friend was well cared for and resting the second he was on the Tower, but he was distracted. Just because the planets and planetoids themselves were infected and basically all self-contained, it didn’t mean that the Green Lantern Corps were any less active.

As ridiculously awful as the thought was, life went on.

Sinestro was still causing problems, feeding on the fear of innumerable sentients and Hal had lost any padding he’d had, sharpened by exhaustion and constant work. Guy and John rotated as much as they could but weren’t doing much better. Unfortunately, Sinestro had an evil hard-on for Hal and liked to strike when the man was on rotation.

Some of the things he heard about how Sinestro treated Hal were really sketchy even if Hal tried to make light of the villain speeches. The obsession there… It wasn’t what anyone could call good.

Between that and how Bats tended to hound him when he got back – not that he didn’t do it to Guy and John just the same – he was normally rather tired. Hal’s strong suit had never been letting someone’s behavior slide off of him, he always had to take a stand. It was what made him such a strong Lantern, but it wasn’t good for him in the long run. Batman opened his mouth and Hal argued with him.

It was just how it was.

Seeing as they left Kyle and Jessica to deal with the sector issues, staying closer to Earth, the other three tended to get the harder stuff. The bigger problems in the universe that made Vega an awful place to be for everyone.

They tried to keep that whole sector cordoned off and it killed Kori not knowing anything about Tamaran.

Big hitters were where the others were called in, and they tried to have at least two of them in their area at any given time. There were currently more Green Lanterns in service than there had been in a millennia.

Just in case.

It helped Wally feel less useless, less like he was spinning his wheels for no reason, when he could help the GLs relax and refuel. Hal more than the other two, simply because they got along better, the weight of Barry’s absence missing in a way it wasn’t with the other members of the League. Because Hal had been the previous Flash’s best friend, and yet he had _never_ called Wally by the wrong name whether he was in suit or out. Not once.

Unlike the others.

He knew that the rest of the League were mourning in their own ways too, but every time Clark slipped and called him Barry and then looked stricken, or _Diana_ did… well. It hurt.

So normally, when Hal was on station he was pretty aware of him, of the bruises of exhaustion and the sharpness of his jaw and cheekbones when he grinned at his own jokes. Of putting Clark between him and Bruce when Hal came back a bit too raw from whatever evil bullshit was still going on out there in the greater universe. Those two rubbed each other wrong just by breathing the same air, and in another world, they’d probably be a match made in heaven.

This one, that would likely be their _destination_ after they _murdered_ each other.

Then, though, trapped in worry over Jason, Wally didn’t notice Hal until a cooler than usual hand settled firmly but carefully on his shoulder, drawing his attention.

His heart sank to the bottom on his stomach and he felt himself pale when he looked up at the man.

Hal looked grim.

For a man who looked cocky even when a yellow construct was attempting to rip him limb from limb, this was…

“They’ve found him.”

Closing his eyes, Wally pushed that screaming rage and quiet fear behind the icy wall of duty, into that box of not now, and the Flash nodded and stood. The inhibitor on his wrist wasn’t on a particularly high setting, but he absently turned the dial so that he wouldn’t vibrate through anything on accident.

“What happened?”

“There’s a briefing in room four. I don’t know what it’s about,” considering he was supposed to be resting. “But it sounds like Jason’s caused another stir.”

That meant he was alive, right? That he wasn’t dead and gone or bitten and worse?

_Please._

Thinking of long nights spent talking – or bitching – about Dick and their various other acquaintances. Long nights talking about books and media that Jason had missed during his time dead and then Pit crazy, and when Wally had been eaten by the Speed Force. Catching each other up on the awkward things that they had time to talk about now when there was nothing new coming out during the apocalypse.

Thinking of how, before the apocalypse and the world ending was just something that happened every few weeks, Jason’s back had been so broad. His shoulders thick with muscle and so bare despite the armor and weapons, how starkly separate he had looked despite it all. His steps had been sure and planted, not like how Wally’s feet could never stay in one place for very long.

Roy or Kori or Kyle tended to descend then, but occasionally Wally would feel the pull to try and help fill some of that empty, too heavy space.

He never had, and he regretted that now.

During his time of practical isolation and imprisonment, Wally had begun to regret a lot of things he hadn’t quite managed to add to his already beleaguered conscience.

“He’s alive?”

“I wasn’t told otherwise,” Hal’s face twisted tiredly and his hand lifted to Wally’s shoulder again and squeezed comfortingly. “Whatever it is, whatever he’s gotten into… Don’t forget I’m in your corner, little red.”

Which was perhaps more reassuring than it should be, considering Hal’s general douchebaggery. 

When Wally stepped into the room, it was to see Bruce standing in full gear – something they all rarely did these days – and staring at a recording not yet being played on the screen. It looked like it was from one of the surveillance cameras the Bats used, but an older model than was currently in use. A helmet cam, maybe?

Not that there was much time for them to trade or upgrade gear at the moment, seeing as Tim was really the only one still making things down there. And _that_ was with Alfred dragging him to sleep and practically drugging him to keep him down if the feral child was to be believed. After translating Damian’s tendency to talk down to everyone on the comms that wasn’t Bruce or Diana, that was basically the gist.

Jason was on the screen, his arm bloody and armor scuffed up and a grimly amused smile on his face where it was frozen. It looked like he was standing in some kind of office building a desk turned on its side and pressed to a door as a makeshift barricade behind him.

Taking a seat, the speedster felt gray. Hal’s hand wrapped around his wrist in support and all he could do was glance at him for a grateful moment.

He’d been bitten, obviously. Was this, why was –

God, he hoped they weren’t his final words.

It took another few minutes for the rest of the League members, aside from whoever was on monitor duty, to enter the briefing room. Under his cowl, Wally couldn’t read Bruce’s expression, but he’d known that man since he was a kid, and there was no way his guilt complex wasn’t tearing him a new one.

“Five days ago, Red Hood was bitten after a skirmish with some raiders who caught some of the signal let off by our communications arrays,” he paused. “He then decided not to return to the shelter, as a liability and infection risk, and chose instead to record his change as evidence for further testing. It’s been edited down to the relevant parts.”

“Isn’t he alive, though?” He only realized he’d spoken when everyone turned to look at him. “I mean, if we’re talking about him like this, he’s – something _has_ to be different. About his infection or transformation? Something drastic enough to make us pull up a full meeting like this.”

Other people they knew had been bitten and turned, but that hadn’t involved anything like this, not after the first few weeks.

“Jason is alive,” a hint of complicated relief, but something steely underneath. “And that’s what makes his decision to record this important. That he didn’t just ‘opt out’, is the only reason we know that he’s immune.”

 _Immune_.

Wide eyed, they all traded looks around the table, and Wally flipped his hand so that Hal’s slid from his wrist to tangle with his own. Hope and fear and disbelief warred in his chest.

Hal’s grip was steady, it grounded him.

This was the first case of immunity or even _potential_ immunity, that they’d ever heard of. Throughout months and months of trying to find _something_ about this weird space magic virus… and Jason was immune.

And he could have killed himself, as many people infected tended to do when push came to shove rather than potentially need to be dealt with by loved ones.

“Arsenal sent an edited version to show the timetable properly, and I wanted to share this with the League before action is taken.”

And with Hal’s hand twisted in his own and the Speed Force trapped in the confines of his body, Wally _watched._

He watched, and prayed to a god he didn’t actually believe in, Source Wall or no, that this didn’t have a bad end.

~

_“It’s been two hours since I was bitten,” Jason was sat back in front of the camera, clinically looking down at his cleaned but not bandaged arm. The teeth marks were a vague shadow in the lighting. “And I haven’t experienced the headache symptoms or any fever. No flop sweats or physical cramping.”_

_A careful breath._

_“The longest recorded case of turning is six hours. I’ll keep checking every half hour for any perhaps unfelt changes.”_

_~_

_“Three-hour mark and still no fever or sweating. There’s scabbing on the infection site, which is abnormal from previous cases I’ve seen. Different than all the documentation we’ve had access to, where constant bleeding and plasma released from the injury.”_

_~_

_“Four hours, and nothing yet. I’m a bit thirsty, I guess.”_

_~_

_“Five hours –“_

_~_

_“Six –“_

_~_

_“It’s been twelve hours, and I’m still not experiencing any symptoms and though some bruising has developed around the infection site. Just like every other time someone has tried to take a bite out of me.”_

_There was some incredulity, something almost fragile, in Jason’s voice._

_~_

_“…. It’s been twenty-four hours and…. And no symptoms? I… I might be immune? Or, some other shit is happening? Does the alien zombie virus even count me as alive because of that whole being dead thing or what?”_

_Highly awkward laughter that cut off abruptly._

_“What the actual fuck.”_

_~_

Silence reigned in the briefing room as the video halted and they all stared at the screen. Wally’s heart was shaking in his chest, thinking of the gun that Jason had kept in hand for the first half of the edited recording.

Waiting for symptoms to crop up to –

Green light gleaming under the table, wrapped around his own hand, made Wally glance down and relax, because when he looked at Hal he looked focused and determined. He could count on Hal to get what needed doing done for this even if _he_ needed a moment to process all of this.

“Under no circumstances –“

“There’s no way of knowing if –“

“Was he truly bitten by –“

Wally’s numb fingers twisted his inhibitor all the way down and the world crackled around him for a moment, silence falling as he stood in the center of his own storm.

Jason was alive. He was alive and there was something like bewildered hope burning behind Wally’s breastbone like a caged thing. Like Wally had been caged since after this started. Like his fear had kept him from filling that space that had ached so emptily beside another hero, beside Jason, no matter how darkened.

Beside a friend.

“What did Jason want to do?” he asked, feeling Hal stand at his side in support. “This video was recorded and sent for a reason. What does he want to do?”

“His judgement is compromised,” Bruce said after a moment of silence. “It’s ill-advised to remove him from a controlled environment –”

“Bullshit,” Hal, always willing to butt heads with the Batman, stepped forward, suit brilliantly wrapped around his whipcord frame. “That kid might be a hothead in a fight, but he knows his own mind enough to know what he wants to do with something like _this_! Hell, if Arsenal didn’t agree with him he wouldn’t have even sent us a video.”

“Keeping him in the area as a controlled study is –“

“Jason wouldn’t want that!” Wally couldn’t help but say, lips pressed into a frown, feeling calories flow away as his limbs shivered. “He’d want to go where there’s the best chance for creating a cure, or some form of vaccine.”

Whatever weird magic space equivalent there was.

“We have to get Jason to Oa.”

Glancing over at Diana, Wally felt his brows furrow, looking to her for support. Wonder Woman and Superman shared a glance and nodded, J’onn across the table nodding as well. Oliver still looked to be in shock and Dinah was speaking quietly into his ear.

The empty seats of the League members who were stuck planet side were glaringly obvious, but at least they knew where most of them _were_.

“Bruce,” the Amazon spoke determinedly. “We must do what is best for everyone.”

Normally, this wasn’t an issue. The needs of the many always outweighed the needs of the few with Batman. Except… sometimes, he got mixed up when it came to Jason. Wally didn’t know all the details of every fight that the two had ever had, but he knew that Roy had promised that he’d kill Bruce if he decided to do 'something like that’ again.

He didn’t know what ‘that’ was, but it was uncomfortable to think about.

Wally stared down at the table for a moment, that thought twisting in his stomach.

Was – was _he_ too close to the situation too? The way Batman was compromising it with his emotions in a way he normally wouldn’t?

Hal flared green at Wally’s side, affirmation that he wasn’t flying blind on his feelings alone.

Making sure Jason got to Oa was the best thing for everyone, and more than just Wally thought so.

“We don’t have time for your guilt complex this time Spooky,” Hal’s voice was tired and serious as he glowed brilliantly at Wally’s side. “No one has time for it.”

And that, for _once_ with the Batman, was that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Self reflection was a point of pride amongst the Green Lantern Corps, despite all the shit that had been thrown on them.
> 
> OR
> 
> If Hal could get a drink right about now, and then drown in it, that'd be pretty cool.

God, he wished he could take an endless nap sometimes.

Wished that time travel wasn’t such a fucking _mess_ to deal with on the best of days and the most well of meanings.

Because Hal was so _fucking_ tired.

Going back and stopping this from happening wouldn’t work anyway, because they still didn’t know _what had caused it._ Greatest minds in the universe and the Guardians still didn’t know, or if they did, they weren’t talking.

He felt hollowed out of anything other than Will, every other emotion smothered beneath the power of green light. The more and more he had to push his limits, the more he had to keep his suit on and his ring at maximum output, the more scraped raw he felt.

If only it was the zombie apocalypse that was the problem, but this had been coming on for a while now.

There were very few things left that could help Hal remember what it meant to relax. What it meant to walk around in clothing that chafed and feel the atmosphere again his skin.

Funny, how he’d felt the most alive during the worst point in near history, when everyone else was suffering.

Wonder what that said about him?

Not anything good. Not that most people had good things to say about him when it _wasn’t_ related to stopping the potential end of life as it was known.

Part of him knew that even though he was exhausted, even though everything was fucking awful, that this was actually _better_ than he’d felt in a long while. Since Coast had been practically wiped off the map because he was arrogant, since Sinestro had betrayed everything he’d thought they stood for, since his best friend had died.

Hal could honestly say that he hadn’t been doing so hot before the alien zombie apocalypse – Jason’s terms were catchy, and it made Spooky twitchy, which was a plus – so this was a step up. Now he was doing more than barely scraping money out from under his couch cushions or relying on Carol for food when he was planet-side. He was doing more than ignoring the looks of the other Lanterns, either of pity or suspicion, when news of Sinestro’s latest bullshit popped up.

Now he could sit down – well, fall down – on a nearby couch and commiserate on the lack of amenities in the Tower with Guy, argue with John, feel weirdly humbled by Kyle and Jessica. Hal could eat a sandwich handed to him by a friend and not feel like he was being a fucking mooch because he had no money to his name.

There was someone to talk to, now, who really understood the whole of Barry Allen, if in a different way.

Hal hadn’t expected to become friends with Wally West, previous Kid Flash and nephew of his best friend. He’d been terrified of being that asshole who tried to shove the younger man into a mold he wasn’t meant for. But surprisingly… surprisingly, Wally, despite the general Flash optimisms and witty comebacks, wasn’t all that much like Barry.

Also, maybe there had been a drunken make out or two with Barry, and that one very nice threesome with Iris that had been fun, but Hal had never had _feelings_ for his best friend. He’d loved the man like his own brother, had been through the highs and the lows with him, but he’d never looked at Barry’s smile and thought _I’d like to kiss him._

Wally was leaner than Barry had been, and a little shorter, freckles barely visible on his exposed chin in the suit. His eyes were green, and his eyelashes tinted red. He squinted one eye more than the other when he laughed and tended to bite his nails when he thought.

He was warm but cutting in a way that Barry had never been. There were sharp edges of grief and darkness in Wally West that had never been carved into Barry Allen.

They had fallen into friendship almost ridiculously smoothly when Wally had stepped into the role of Flash at his uncle’s death. Jokes based around the grim absence of the man they’d both loved and admired had made the rest of the League uncomfortable, but it had eased something between them. This shared grief. A man not forgotten, a bruise pressed against, to remind them both that it was real.

When Hal had bad days, he’d talk to Wally about missing having his best friend to call up for advice, or at least a sympathetic ear. He missed having someone who understood the awkward situation with his family, who would show up at any time of day with coffee and a bagel to make it better.

He missed his best friend.

Wally would talk about the nights when he’d fight with his parents after he’d become Kid Flash, how he’d run to his uncle and they’d play video games all night. How when it got too frustrating pretending that he _wasn’t_ thinking a thousand times faster than everyone else, Barry would take him out and they’d _run._ How his mom and dad had loved him, but they hadn’t understood him, not the way that Barry did.

Somehow, those moments of reminiscence had turned into bitching about League members, turned into patching a call through his ring at two in the morning for random alien trivia. It turned into Wally showing up at his apartment with a haunted look in his eyes because he’d dreamt of the Speed Force consuming him and Nightwing was on a mission.

It turned into a weird pseudo friendship based on mourning one man, but Barry had always had a way of turning things towards the light. Even when he wasn’t there.

Then the end of the world happened, and the safety and sanctity of the Watchtower had turned into Wally’s prison. There wasn’t anything that Hal could do other than be a shoulder to lean on, a hand to grip when the going got tough and Wally was trapped in his own skin. Hal had never been someone’s rock before, but he’d tried for Wally.

Hal could look at freckles and coppery red hair and a bright, weary grin and one squinty eye, but he couldn’t lean forward and press his lips to the freckle at the corner.

And that would be because of one Jason Todd.

The other anchor, that bright point, in this shitshow they called life, which had literally decided that it’d had enough.

Honestly, despite his time in the military, Hal didn’t prefer ending lives. Despite the fact that sometimes he didn’t have the luxury of a gentle takedown out there in the wider galaxy, there were clearly places where death was the result of his intervention. Lives had been lost because Hal was a Green Lantern, because he’d caught a criminal and the planetary judicial system had sentenced them to death.

The Guardians occasionally spoke of lifting the ban on killing when it came to the Sinestro Corps, even if they hadn’t done so yet. Hal and John had been called in for hearings about lives they’d ended, but that was just due process. Green Lanterns had killed in the face of the Reach and Apokolips.

Death happened, and soldiers killed people, but… Hal thought he’d have more problems with the Red Hood than he actually did. He wasn’t a soldier, he wasn’t at war.

Only, he kind of was, wasn’t he?

He’d had words with Batman about his string of Robins a few times and the words 'child soldier' may have come up a time or two. Or three.

But the killing… that was a choice. One that Hal should feel worse about, but he didn’t.

Maybe it had to do with the number of bounty hunters he dealt with out there in the wider universe, or his own military background. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Jason didn’t kill as much anymore.

But it was probably because of Wally, if he was being honest. Because he’d met _Jason_ first. Jason, the awkward, lively young man telling terrifying stories of the planet they couldn’t touch because it was overrun. He’d met the laughing, bright little shit who liked to rag on his friends good naturedly.

Not the grim, dark Red Hood. Not blood and bone and meat splattered on dungy concrete and lives viscerally ended in front of him.

Everything could probably be blamed on the way that Wally got softer and easier when talking to Jason, joking about Dick and Roy and muttering expletives about the littlest Spook. That almost vulnerable shade to pale, freckled features, wan with lack of food and energy, had been alarming until Hal recognized the quiet joy from laughter. Recognized a smile that couldn’t be seen from the jury-rigged communications array down on the ground.

Despite what other people said, despite how he himself had thought he might react, Hal had been _relieved._

Because being attracted to Wally, his body _and_ his slightly acerbic if generally cheerful personality, wasn’t something he was ashamed of, but. But Hal was over a decade his senior and also his dead uncle’s best friend. Despite their growing friendship, despite the way they’d taken to leaning on each other, Hal _couldn’t_. He might feel the most alive he’d been in years, with green light taking the place of marrow and a heart pulsing Will _,_ but that wasn’t a step he should take.

Wasn’t one he _needed_ to take.

Wally was happy talking to Jason, would bite his lips on a smile no one else would see, grin about some story about a kid they might never meet.

So, when Hal idly commented that he’d heard _rumors_ about how Red Hood was built like a linebacker, he’d let Wally’s motor mouth do the talking. And once that door was opened, boy, was it never going to close again. It was both hilarious and endearing to hear the new Flash talk about wanting to get crushed by Jason’s thighs and saying he’d thank him for it. It was pretty cute to listen to stories about the occasional team up and how thick Jason’s biceps were and how fun he was to talk to.

It also turned into occasionally listening to and talking to Jason on his own, when Wally was taking one of his rare moments of sleep. It turned into bitching about Batman – which was extremely cathartic – and discussing Wally’s mental health with someone who cared.

Not that the League didn’t care, but because Jason was, surprisingly, a bit of a mother hen once he got going. It was kinda cute.

When Wally told Hal stories about what Jason had said while _he_ was off doing his sector duties or flinging himself at Sinestro to distract him from the other Lanterns, Hal was content.

So by god, he’d make sure that Jason made it to Oa, made it to the Guardians, and then this extended apocalypse, this shithouse, could end.

Some things would change, but others would go back to how they had been. People bounced back quick, they’d all learned how over the years.

“Hal, I know you just got back, but…” Wally grimaced a little and rolled his eyes at himself. “Jason might actually kill Guy rather than go with him if he shows up. Just on principle.”

“Hey, if I could get away with it I’d kill Guy too,” it was automatic to lift the bird to his fellow Lantern, almost comforting to get it in turn. “But don’t worry. I’ll take care of it, Wally.”

“Thanks Hal.”

“No problem.”

In his suit, the world was both muted of sensation and his body stronger and more _present_ than it was otherwise. Flight down from the Watchtower to Earth, through the Will-powered shield projected from several Oan satellites, was surreal.

It had been nearly a year since he’d been on the planet, and he’d been in space at the time of the beginning of the apocalypse.

It was… well. Let’s just say that cleanup was going to be a bitch.

He got several pings from the satellites to send them his confirmation codes and his Lantern identification so that they’d let him out when needed. Hal had sent a brief info packet back to Oa, and John was taking care of the full debrief while Hal was out picking up their best chance for freedom from the alien zombie virus.

Whatever the technical term was, the Guardians hadn’t bothered to tell them. Need to know and all that.

The area where Hal landed was better than others, more tree coverage than some of the other bases that had been set up around the world.

Roy Harper was a brilliant spot of red near the rooftop access. Waiting for him. For whoever was sent to pick up his best friend and haul him across the galaxy to potentially find a way to end this apocalypse year. God, Hal couldn’t imagine how Oliver’s old partner felt about this, about how if some stroke of luck hadn’t made Jason immune, he’d have had to… deal with it.

Hal had seen a lot of that, as the universe fell apart around them.

He thought of sitting back to back with Wally, a solid line of heat as they talked about nothing at all, and sometimes the things that mattered.

Couldn’t imagine having to _deal with him_ , didn’t want to.

When he landed, he stayed powered, letting his Will support him so that he didn’t feel that temporary aching stretch in his bones.

“How is he?”

Not actually what he’d meant to first be out of his mouth, but it worked just as well. Still, it made something in Roy’s stiff, worried countenance slide away. Yeah, definitely better that he had come down and not Guy.

Guy was a good guy, an ass – they were all assholes in their own ways – but he also had some problem with that whole, brain to mouth filter thing.

And when Hal was in front of Jason, perhaps for the first time in his memory, there was a faint _itching_ sensation of familiarity that he couldn’t for the life of him explain.

Then he realized that Jason Todd was huge, and he had a sudden intense understanding of why Wally wanted to be crushed by the guy.

Ah. Shit.

One of the _last_ things he needed was for Bruce to sense that Hal was having impure thoughts – even just physical ones – about one of his collected kids. Even the one that pretty publicly denounced relation with him by taking up that whole murder the bad guys thing.

Honestly, everyone had gotten drunk when Nightwing had taken up the mantle and had a group existential crisis that the child was an adult now and running around in skintight spandex.

That had been a rough week.

Now Jason was _built,_ but Hal was honestly more focused on making sure that this whole thing ran smoothly than watching him walk. There was a time and a place for that, and it wasn’t in the potential ending of the apocalypse. Maybe when he finally got Wally and him in the same room together and he could imagine red hair and freckles, and a grin up at a quirked smile.

That’d be cute.

What was it that Kyle had said? Right, right, Hal, ah, _shipped it_? Yeah, he shipped it.

That sounded right.

There were things to get done before they stopped briefly at the Tower, and this meant that the children that Jason always complained about spotted Hal in the interim.

Now, don’t get him wrong, he didn’t hate kids, he didn’t dislike being around them or anything, but he wasn’t exactly a fan favorite. His city had been crushed and Sinestro had attempted to enslave and _own_ him, he’d temporarily not been much of anything and tried to use Carol as a crutch. It hadn’t been fair to her or what their relationship had been, and they were better apart, better as friends and colleagues these days.

Hal could admit that he’d had better years.

Most kids had a kind of sixth sense for losers and deadbeats, and Hal hadn’t exactly been swinging homeruns these past few years.

That didn’t stop _these_ vultures, however.

“Can you make a puppy?!”

“What about a merry go round?!”

“Ooh, can we have slides?!”

As he was bullied into making a playground by fast-talking kids who were focused on the Green Lantern in front of them, Hal watched Jason speak quietly with Roy. He could have listened in, it wasn’t hard, but despite what certain _other_ people seemed to think, people deserved their privacy.

Jason’s arm was wrapped up tight and hidden under a leather coat with what looked like Kevlar inlay. That helmet of his – the symbol of the Red Hood – was tucked under the unbitten arm and he had all of his guns strapped to him.

Sometimes Hal missed the days when all he worried about was being a test pilot or stopping petty crime, even if he’d never give up the ring. Never give up the manifestation of his own Will that gave him the ability to help people.

He didn’t _need_ his ring, Hal knew that now, but he was better with it.

“Anything you want to see before we head out, Jason?” He asked, quirking an easy grin at too serious features, and enjoying the byplay of Roy nudging Jason’s shoulder. “Any pit stops before we cross the black?”

Oddly _sharp_ green eyes, intense in a different way to Wally’s, which were soft and almost mossy even when filled with determination, fixed on Hal. They almost seemed to glow, reminding him of the green that bubbled in his bones and suffused every cell in his body. That hum of almost familiarity that could have been deja vu slid across the back of his tongue, as if Hal had seen Jason before.

Of course he _had_ , the white patch of hair was distinctive, but he didn’t… this was a little different.

Hal needed sleep, honestly. He was on hour seventy-four, and it probably showed.

“Mind swinging by Gotham?”

Brows raising in surprise, he thought about the moments of quiet discussion between Jason and Wally that he’d interrupted on occasion involving why Jason kept on returning to a city that had caused him so much pain. Thought of the people that were still within the Gotham city limits, hidden in Batman’s secure underground bunker. Where secret identities still mattered because Bruce was the _literal worst_ and his spawn there had followed his orders.

Sure, they had a hundred people there in the bunker, and Hal wouldn’t trust a regular joe on the street from Gotham as far as he could toss them, but still. Everyone needed to decompress sometimes, and he was at least glad that Jason and Roy had been able to come free with the twenty-some-odd people they had with them.

“Sure,” holding out a hand, he prepared to enshroud Jason in his Will, only for the younger man to grab his wrist. “Ah, got more to do before we head out?”

Certain sensations were muted by the active use of his ring, but _something_ zinged along his nerves from where that wide, strong hand grasped him. Suddenly, Hal was acutely aware of the weight that he’d lost over these months of go-go- _go_ and how not all of it had been what little body fat he’d had to spare. Even if he knew that he was still a good-looking guy, a sudden burst of insecurity he couldn’t smother had his gaze following that hand up towards the man it belonged to. Sliding up an arm that looked well-muscled under thick leather, passing a rather nasty scar on his throat to that strong jawline.

For a moment he thought of pre-apocalypse Hal, and how if he’d run into a guy who looked like Jason, who had muscle and height on him… well. If it had been a bar, he would have tried _real_ hard not to leave alone.

It was a rare thing for Hal to feel small in the presence of a _human_ , and an unaltered one, at that.

Jason hadn’t hit the same food shortages that they worried about up in the Watchtower, hadn’t been restricted by the amount of scarcity that had been near unheard of in the wider galaxy.

They had access to gardens and farms and the ability to raid what supplies still existed in the world despite the other faults. Planet side might be a corpseish-ridden hellscape, but they weren’t fighting over food the way that the space colonies and stations were.

He’d bet that the young vigilante probably had fifty pounds on him. At least.

There was a slight dimple at the corner of his mouth when Jason smirked, and Hal flexed his hand as that warm grip released him. It left behind a strangely comforting tingling sensation that made goosebumps blossom on Hal’s flesh.

“Don’t you want to meet our newest hero?”

A grin spread across his face before he’d even registered it, and Hal hovered slightly with curious vigor.

“Crowbar kid is here?”

Following green eyes where they looked over his shoulder, Hal turned, absently brushing off the sudden muttering and scuffle of the young men now behind him.

Holy shit, she was a neon nightmare.

Hispanic by the look of her with a crowbar hanging from her bedazzled belt – was that a makeshift leather grip? – and striped leggings tucked into rubber boots. Rubber boots in bright pink, scuffed gray at the toes and heels, decorated with bright green frogs with blue bows on their head and improbably red lips. Why did people gender animals like that? God, he’d never get the fear of Miss Piggy trying to strangle him with her hair out of his head.

Nightmare demons were the worst.

Fucking Muppets.

Anyway, this kid wasn’t wearing a sweater, but instead a bright red Flash shirt – oh wait until Wally heard about _that_ – and a sparkly purple tutu.

How was this kid so intimidating, when it looked like her headband had light up butterflies on it?

“Crowbar kid!” He cried without thought even as the girl turned suspicious eyes on him. “You’re the biggest hero we’ve heard of lately!”

The girl jutted her chin out forward and crossed her arms over her chest, those little gel bracelets that were big in the nineties on her wrists. A hint of pink on her cheeks and a brightness in her eyes were the only signs that she even cared who he was at all.

Kid had balls of fucking steel.

“Oh yeah, Wondy would _love_ you,” he mused. “She’s always loved proof that strong woman are made of choices. Crowbar kid is the _best_.”

That outfit was most definitely a _choice_.

“Do _not_ tell her mom that,” Jason told him, amused and yet tired in ways that Hal recognized. “Poor lady’s got a weak heart or somethin’.”

“Maybe when all this is said and done, you can introduce her.”

“To _Wonder Woman_?” Jason seemed almost scandalized, and Hal laughed, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “I’m not exactly a big fan of your lead asshole, and he probably won’t let me take a shit without observation after this. Especially on the stupid Watchtower.”

“Spooky can go fuck himself,” Hal waved away easily, noting the movement of thick muscles in those broad shoulders as Jason twitched. “I meant Flash, actually.”

“You know the _Flash_?!” Hissed crowbar kid as she stalked up to them, looking bright-eyed and suddenly a lot more impressed. “I guess Greenie –“

“Greenie?” Why was that always the go-to nickname for people?

“– would know him, but Red _Hood_ knows the Flash?”

“Oh _yeah_ ,” Hal was very amused by the scowl that twisted Jason’s tanned face, making those bright green eyes stand out under expressive brows. Yeah, he was definitely blushing, too. It was unexpectedly cute from a guy who could probably snap him in half. “They’ve known each other for years.”

“Wow,” she breathed before she beamed up at them. “I’m gonna go play now, but after you save everyone you _gotta_ let us meet the Flash!”

Then she ran away without letting Jason say yes or no either way. Completely confident that Jason was going to save the whole of life as they knew it and then be down for introducing the Flash around. What a kid.

Squeezing those ridiculous shoulders – somehow Jason carried them more realistically than Clark did – he leaned down to speak quietly to Jason.

“You ready?”

A deep breath and a look around at the kids playing on the constructs he was going to need to disperse soon enough.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

So Hal bid everyone goodbye, the kids all waved and called out to Jason about coming back soon and to be safe, and Roy just flipped them off. What a great guy, it was almost homey leaving with that.

Hovering a bit, Hal extended a tendril of Will and pulled Jason with him. Something almost like joy glinted in tired eyes as his feet lifted off the ground and Hal couldn’t help but grin, pleased by the mirrored expression. Flying was the best expression of freedom Hal had ever come across, and that was _before_ he’d gotten a power ring.

He had a feeling it was similar for Jason.

It was good to see that Jason wasn’t as grim-dark as old Batsy was, even if he had the weight of the lives of many on his shoulders. Very nice shoulders, but still.

“Wanna go faster?” He asked once they were up in the air, far, far away from any reaching zombie hands.

Where the world seemed small and large at the same time, and perspective was a funny thing. Hal loved it.

“Fuck yeah!”

So they became a green streak across a green-tinged sky, and Jason whooped as Hal took them through some of the more fun maneuvers he’d learned as a test pilot. There was a certain joy in Jason that Hal hadn’t expected, the freedom of flight pulling away all those pieces of inherited and well-earned dourness. It made Jason look his age, and suddenly Hal was hit with the reminder that despite his capabilities, Red Hood was still in his early twenties.

That he’d died as a child and never had the chance to grow up the way he should have, but had molded himself into a weapon instead. Hands had wielded him, but perhaps the apocalypse was the most free that Jason Todd had ever been, unburdened by society.

It reminded him that some of the shadows in Wally’s eyes disappeared when he spoke to Jason over comms, joking and shooting the shit. Made Hal wonder if Jason had looked similar during those same discussions.

“After all this,” in the embrace of the green, there was no wind interference as they spoke. “You should swing by Coast.”

There was something wary in Jason's eyes, hesitance in a handsome face, but it wasn’t exactly reluctance.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Hal confirmed. “Wally and I have bitching sessions and eat ridiculously unhealthy takeout that he immediately burns off. It’ll be fun.”

Plus, it’d give the two of them something to do _together_ after this. Because while Wally wasn’t too much like Barry, he was still a Flash, and he ran from complicated emotions half the time, like his affection for Jason. Hal hadn’t been friends with Barry when he’d had his initial Iris crisis, but he’d sat through every one he’d had after they were married.

Of course, he’d also sat through Barry’s breakdown when he realized his nephew by marriage had figured him out and nearly killed himself but ended up a speedster instead. It was one of the reasons that Hal wouldn’t let Wally run away from Jason, other than the way Jason relaxed a bit at Wally being mentioned. The ease of tension in a man who had been raised by the Batman just at the mention of one person… well, it said a lot.

Considering who it was that Hal was going to make damn sure that Wally would be able to have his moment with, Hal wasn’t sure that Barry would have approved. Honestly, Barry wouldn’t approve of _anyone_ who wanted to date Wally, but Hal was the one here, so this was all on him. It shouldn’t be him who brought sweet smiles to that freckled face, but it _could_ be Jason.

They both deserved a little more happiness, anyway. Even if Hal didn’t know Jason very well, he knew that all the Bat kids needed more positive things in their lives.

Even the stab-happy one.

When they got close to the entrance outside city limits, Jason put his helmet on and lead Hal through the ridiculous number of near lethal barriers.

“Spooky is so fuckin’ paranoid,” Hal muttered, watching Jason input _another_ passcode. “Man seriously needs therapy.”

“But how could he ever afford it?” Jason lamented ridiculously believably before snorting and continuing wryly. “Also, that would be admitting there’s something wrong with him.”

“Y’know, Guy says he’s got all the signs of controlled obsession or something. Fixating on a single experience in his life and defining his existence around it.”

Jason paused before turning to look at Hal, who had his fingers linked behind his head as he walked behind him. He could practically feel the incredulity.

“Hey, Guy might be an insufferable ass, but he’s an educated one with a professional interest in psychology,” rolling his eyes, Hal sighed. “We aren’t _only_ picked because we’re stubborn as shit.”

Red Hood snorted again as he shook his head and turned back to the last lock, opening the door to let them into the main entryway of the base.

A tall, thin, older gentleman in a sweater and slacks stood before them, and Jason froze, stunned by the one waiting for them.

“Master Jason,” Alfred spoke with warmth and relief in his tone, stepping forward to wrap the much larger Red Hood in his arms. “I’m so glad you came.”

“I –” clearing his throat, Jason slid his arms carefully around the _real_ patriarch of the Wayne family. “How’d you know I was coming? Thought the external cameras were damaged on this section.”

Ah, so that was why he chose to enter on this end.

Fucking Bats.

“Master Wallace may have called ahead with news,” Alfred acquiesced, pulling back, hands on Jason’s shoulders. “I have made you some things to take with you, and Master Timothy would like to run a preliminary test, but you needn’t allow it.”

“I’m amazed you managed to keep them away,” he joked roughly, letting Alfred remove his helmet. “And that the demon brat let you turn off the defensive systems.”

Defensive syst – honestly. Batman needed to chill the fuck out.

“Master Jason,” Alfred chided.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry Al.”

That discerning gaze swept over to Hal and he felt himself fall into parade rest, as he always did when he was around Alfred Pennyworth. Well, unless he was having a screaming match with Bruce, and then the man was kicking him out of the manor quite competently. A single brow raised imperiously, before the corner of the most lethal butler’s mouth ticked in what was nearly a smile for Hal.

“ _Mister_ Jordan,” he couldn’t help but grin at the unimpressed tone; Alfred might not like him too much, but Hal couldn’t say the same in reverse. If anyone in the Batfam deserved a green power ring, it was Alfred Pennyworth. “You are Master Jason’s escort on his journey?”

“At least for this part of it,” he affirmed. “Batman was being difficult, so…”

“So naturally,” was said dryly as Jason glanced back at Hal with an unreadable look on his face. “You volunteered to make things difficult for _him_ in turn.”

“And because Wally asked.”

Grinning, he enjoyed the way that Jason’s cheeks went pink, as well as the sudden consideration in Alfred’s gaze when he noticed. Oh yeah, prime teasing material, fresh off the press for good ol' Alfred.

“Figured it was the least I could do.”

Hal didn’t get many chances to do things for his friends these days, since he was always on the go. He supposed he was also doing this for himself in a way, because it was nice, to be able to see all these bits of happiness in the dark. See glimpses of the man that Wally was smitten with.

So far, he’d liked what he’d seen.

He just hoped he didn’t end up liking it too much, because love triangles were really more of John’s thing than Hal’s. He had enough problems.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up was better than the long sleep, right?
> 
> OR
> 
> Oh god they were cuddling.

Jason wished he could shoot this little shit again.

“Hey, back off with the needles,” Jason pulled his arm away from Tim, scowling. “You’ve taken enough of my blood, Replacement. And my skin. And my _saliva_.”

“Stop whining! You have the cure for the zombie apocalypse –”

“ _Alien_ zombie apocalypse.”

“– in your veins!”

Tim was very clearly sleep deprived and looked like he had three sets of bags under his eyes, and also smelled like burnt coffee was coming out of his pores. Jesus. He knew that out of all of them Tim had the worst tendency to fixate on a problem until he ran himself into the ground or it was solved, but it had been _months._

Jason was sincerely considering tranquilizing the little shit.

“This is why we’re going to the _alien_ experts. With their weird pseudo space magic, to fix the _alien_ zombie apocalypse all over the known universe.”

Across the room Hal snorted, looking up from the hovering green display of various alien martial artists that he’d been distracting the demon brat with. Surprisingly, while Jason had peripherally known Hal for a few years, he’d never actually spoken face to face with him until now, when he’d come down to ferry him to Oa.

Apparently at Wally’s request.

Ignoring the fluttering in his stomach, Jason scowled and moved away from crazy eyes coffee boy and his needles and towards Hal and Damian. Alfred had insisted that they take a package of food with them and was finishing putting something together for Hal to stash in his subspace pocket for the trip.

The Green Lantern didn’t bother to smother his smirk as he tilted his head, watching Damian bare his teeth at Jason and vice versa. He said nothing as Jason rewrapped his arm quickly so that he didn’t have to look at the scab anymore. According to Wally, Hal was better company than you would expect, what with his cocky default expression and the arrogant tone to his voice.

Apparently he just sounded like that.

Asshole by default. Jason could get that as a defense mechanism; he had his own issues that he mostly dealt with by beating up thugs. Which yeah, not exactly healthy, but at least he’d admit as much to himself, unlike Bruce.

Jason’s neck itched.

“Mr. Pennyworth is just about done, sounds like,” Hal commented easily, absently cutting off the little green projection and rolling one of his shoulders. “And he probably packed enough to feed an armada.”

“Unfortunately,” Alfred chimed in, a cooler in his hands. The fanciest cooler that Jason had ever seen, of course. “Even _I_ cannot feed both an armada and a speedster.”

Blinking in shock, Jason gave Alfred a wide-eyed look, feeling heat crawl up his cheeks as the man raised a single knowing brow.

“Do give Master Wallace my thanks for his regard.”

“No problem,” the Green Lantern spoke when Jason couldn’t find the words. God fucking damnit Alfred was never going to let this go. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate the actual home cooking, and the thought.”

“Indeed.”

Hal put the cooler in that hammer space Roy was always ranting about when the subject of Lanterns came up, and Jason let Alfred hug him again. Well, less _let_ and wholeheartedly leaned into the man’s embrace, breathing in the familiar laundry detergent and tea smell the man carried with him. Despite how the years had thinned him and brought more lines to his face, Alfred Pennyworth was still the most solid, grounding presence in his life.

Even when he’d been full of Lazarus rage, Jason hadn’t been able to find fault with Alfred. He was the best of them, and always did his best _by_ them.

“See ya on the rebound, Al.”

“Take care, Master Jason,” Alfred smiled warmly, tiredly. “You as well, Mister Jordan.”

“Don’t worry Mr. Pennyworth. I’ll return Jason in as many pieces as I got him.”

“How reassuring.”

Hal laughed at the dry tone, and Jason took a moment to examine the sharp edges of exhaustion on him, even if he didn’t show it the same. Physical exhaustion might be mitigated by the power ring, but it probably didn’t do much for mental strain.

Certainly didn’t keep Hal as filled out as Jason had thought he’d been; he could count a few ribs through that uniform.

While Hal had never been as thick as Guy or quite as broad as John in the Justice League photo ops, he’d always looked healthy enough, even with his sporadic employment. The few times Jason had been on world saving duty from some kind of invasion at the same time, Hal had always seemed pretty fit, if from a distance. All of Wally’s worrying about the GL’s made a lot more sense now that Jason had seen the pieces cut off of Hal by being overworked in a universe that was falling apart.

Not that he looked breakable or anything, but Hal was _thin_ in a way that came from a lack of body fat and constant dehydration. His cheekbones were sharp, and the tops of his shoulders were slightly pointed by the press of bone under wiry muscle that had once been smoother. Looking at his waist, Jason was almost positive that Hal had lost a couple inches of insulation, making his ratio almost worrying. Most people would say that he didn’t have much of a conscience or consideration for others, but he’d joined the hero business for a reason, and it wasn’t _only_ because Bruce had given him the platform as cannon fodder.

He cared, and he could almost call Hal a friend and he was definitely at least Wally’s. A few of those sandwiches would end up getting eaten by Hal, if Jason had any say.

Still, his arm around Jason’s shoulders had been warm and steady, reassuring as he’d casually dissed Bruce. There was a hum under Hal’s skin that had seemed to translate into Jason’s, like the feeling of electricity mixed with walking into a warm room after being outside in the cold.

He’d never felt like that when he’d worked with Kyle. Maybe it was because of how long they’d been Green Lanterns? That conclusion didn’t feel right, but it was all he could think of.

Maybe it was just because he hadn’t been touched by anyone other than Roy and the kids in so long, though. Jason knew he was a little skin hungry sometimes, even if he could ignore it when he needed to, could put off that indulgence.

Instead, he’d enjoy this flying bit while it lasted.

There was no way he would ever get used to looking down at the world outside of a plane or a spaceship. There was no way that he’d be able to _not_ gape at the Oan satellites that surrounded the Earth in that giant green shield that tinged everything with emerald.

On the Watchtower, the first thing he _saw_ was Bruce, the sight of him in costume and the grim line of his mouth turning Jason’s stomach. The first thing he _felt_ was the impact of a body and warm, familiar arms wrapping around him as the form in his arms vibrated with joy. Hal’s hand hit his back to steady him, keeping Wally from bowling him over completely.

“Jason!” The delighted cry against the side of his helmet had his reflexive grip on the speedster tightening momentarily. “It’s so good to see you!”

“You too, Wally,” he managed, voice a touch strangled by the fact that the Flash was splayed across his front. “Even if I can’t _see_ you.”

A blur of red pulled back so that Jason could look into warm green eyes and a smattering of freckles on pale skin, a messy mop of short red hair crowning a pretty face.

His heart squeezed in his chest and heat suffused his cheeks, making Jason swallow.

Yeah, still a huge ridiculous crush going on there.

“Red Hood, we need to debrief.”

Aaand there was his heart sinking into his stomach.

Damn it Bruce.

That hand he’d been aware of but had seemed inconsequential between his shoulder blades pushed him forward towards Wally. The speedster glanced over Jason’s shoulder to Hal, and Jason followed his gaze to catch the Lantern tilting his head toward the doorway and smiling grimly.

That was the smile of a man about to throw down with the Batman.

“I’ll deal with Spooky. You get outta here.”

Wow, Hal really _was_ a hero. Jason’s new hero, at the very least.

“Thank Hal!” Chirped Wally before Jason could say anything, and then the world was a blur of motion.

Honestly, he hadn’t been hauled around by super speed since he’d been Robin, but he was pretty sure he remembered getting vertigo. This was nothing like that, although it did make the room spin for a quick second as he remembered how to stand up straight.

Guess Wally had gotten better at taking passengers since last Jason had been one.

The room they were in looked like a bedroom, or rather an apartment, seeing as there was a couch, a lounge chair, and a small dining room set. There was even a small kitchen that looked like it wasn’t used for food so much as science experiments or late-night munching. Kind of reminded him of a hotel room a bit, just a mix of higher end and multipurpose that Jason wasn’t used to.

This was a crash pad of necessity, but it was strangely welcoming.

There were clothes in laundry hampers and notebooks scattered all around. On one of the dining chairs, there was a brown flight jacket that most likely didn’t belong to Wally.

Pictures of Barry Allen and Iris West-Allen dotted the room. Pictures of Dick and the other Teen Titans. Of Wally as Kid Flash. A picture of Hal and Wally lifting a couple of beers and grinning at a camera in an unfamiliar apartment.

“Are you doing okay?” Wally’s hands fluttered around Jason like a hummingbird’s wings. “Nothing broken or bruised or awful? I mean, apart from the,” a blurry wave towards Jason's wounded arm. “Nothing else on top of it? Are you hungry? I don’t have much in my room because I get like, allotments of supplies, but…”

“I’m fine, Wally.”

Pulling off his helmet, Jason set it on the coffee table covered in books and a weird tablet that was probably alien in origin. That couch certainly looked inviting enough though because what energy he’d had had been sucked out of him just by hearing Bruce’s voice in that tone.

His throat itched, all scarred over, but never fully healed in the way that mattered. For a moment he felt the phantom sensation of the world cracking around him, of air hitting blood through the cracks in his mask. Fear, as the hood that protected him was slowly broken open, as if part of him was being torn away.

He was here for the good of all life in the universe. This wasn’t about Batman. It wasn’t about Bruce and his hypocrisy and the fact that he was so very fucked up.

It wasn’t about _Jason_ either, so he needed to suck it up.

Flopping down onto the couch, Jason was ridiculously relieved when Wally stayed glued to his side like a particularly energetic burr. A thin-fingered hand slid over the back of one of Jason’s gloves, and he looked over into that slightly too pale, slightly too thin face.

Wally hadn’t lost as much weight as Hal obviously had, but being a confined speedster on a limited food supply obviously wasn’t ideal.

“You okay?” He asked, quieter this time. “When we didn’t hear from you, I thought…”

Swallowing thickly, Jason tried not to think of how _resigned_ he’d been after being bitten. How he’d come to terms with the fact that he was going to die again, and that it would be for nothing.

He hadn’t saved anyone. There hadn’t been anything more difficult than cold hands and bad circulation to blame.

He’d slipped and his hand had cramped around the trigger, and then there had been adrenaline to blur the pain away until he was safe. Seeing the tear in his jacket, feeling his blood slide too warm down his forearm from the imprint of teeth in his arm. It hadn’t even been deep, really. If it hadn’t been apocalypse year he’d have said nothing about it at all, just cleaned and bandaged it and went on with his life.

But it was.

So he’d settled in to wait to die. To maybe opt out at the last moment after recording for fucking _science_ , so that Roy didn’t have to deal with his hungry, shambling self.

He hadn’t gotten that though. Hadn’t gotten to the point where he needed to eat his own bullets and pray he didn’t become a monster. Instead his body had reacted as if this _wasn’t_ an alien zombie apocalypse and instead he was here.

Without thought, he twisted his hand to grasp Wally’s, blinking quickly to counter the sudden burning in his eyes.

_Fuck_. Where was his repression box when he needed it?

“Hey, it’s okay,” Wally’s free arm wrapped around Jason’s shoulders and pulled him in. “I got you. We’re going to go to Oa and figure all of this out.”

Resting his head in the crook of the speedster’s neck, he wondered at how this was probably both one of the worst and one of the best times of his life. The guy he liked was comforting and holding him in his arms, but physical affection wasn’t a declaration to a Flash the way it was to a Bat. The Bats were taught to repress the hell out of everything, but the Flash legacy generally involved being in touch with and free with their emotions.

Jason hadn’t died, and maybe more people could live because of that.

God, it was fucked up that he was thinking of how nice Wally’s pulse felt against his forehead, how warm he was. Nonsense words were falling over his ears as the speedster kept talking and Jason absently wondered if he should remove his gear the rest of the way.

There was probably no getting out of the Watchtower without at least letting Batman be a sanctimonious shit at him for a long lecture on the importance of yadda yadda blah blah blah.

The reprieve was nice though.

“You falling asleep on me, Jay?”

The words were soft, gentle, and Jason realized he’d leaned more onto Wally, who probably felt uncomfortable with his weight and all his weapons poking him. He should get up, should move. Just get that bullshit with Bruce over with so that he could save the universe – or be used to do the saving – and then go back to being a hermit for a while after.

“Mmsorry,” it took gargantuan effort to pull himself back towards his side of the couch and off of his friend. “Should –“

“When’s the last time you slept?”

Uh.

“Uh. Not that long ago.”

Like a day ago, it was fine. Just. Nightmares had been an issue, all kinds related to zombies – both alien and not – and he could only take the visceral memory of digging out of his own grave once a week. He’d rather have Lazarus dreams where everything was burning green and he couldn’t breathe anything but rage and hate and _hurt_.

“How about this,” Wally let him pull back, but he didn’t let go of his hand. “Hal will definitely come get us when it’s time. Or he’ll send Diana to do it. At this point he’s probably antagonized Batman back into his brooding office, so I think we have time for a nap.”

“I should –“

“Nope!”

Sending Wally an exasperated look that felt heavy with the exhaustion that Jason had refused to let himself feel since he’d been bitten, Jason was greeted with a quirked smile. Huh, one of his eyes squinted more than the other.

Cute.

“Wally –“

“We are taking a nap!” The speedster decided, tightening his grip on Jason’s hand to the point it was almost uncomfortable. “Because I have been terrified out of my mind, thinking that you were dead for _five_ _days_ , and now you are here and I’m not letting you out of my sight until I absolutely have to. I know that emotions give you hives, Jay, but –“

Wally’s green eyes looked a bit shiny as he blinked hard, lips pale at the corners.

“But please. The others will play interference for a while, and we still haven’t heard from Oa exactly what they want to do to transport you. FTL isn’t exactly pleasant when you aren’t a Lantern, and there’s a lot of risk.”

What little defense his long-ingrained duty inspired crumbled in the face of that fact that Jason _wanted_ to take a nap, and he wanted to spend more time with Wally. Before he had to run away to Oa so that little green men could poke and prod at him until they came up with a way to keep _everyone_ alive and whole. Well, at least as far as the alien zombie apocalypse was concerned.

“Okay,” he exhaled roughly, feeling all of his aches at once. The scabs on his arm pulled at the edges. “Okay, Wally.”

So Jason stood to remove his gear and didn’t pause when hesitant hands reached out to help him, growing more confident when Jason didn’t push them away. Guns, tech, knives, and batons went on the coffee table with his helmet, and his jacket and gloves were tossed on as well as Jason removed his boots and set them beside the couch.

While stripping himself of layers, he realized belatedly that Wally was just in a long sleeve shirt and jeans, not even wearing socks or shoes. On his left wrist was the inhibitor cuff, and the speedster fiddled with the dial to turn it up.

The effect was immediate, and Jason was intensely against the cuff even existing, just from watching Wally’s face gray slightly and his eyes dim.

Until they figured this shit out though, there was nothing that Jason could do.

So he flopped back on the couch again and let his head fall against the back as Wally pressed against his side, a line of heat as he grabbed Jason’s hand again. A hand rested gently over his bandage, and Jason took a slow, deep breath before releasing it on a long sigh, letting tension fall out of his shoulders. The hand not wrapped around his own slid up his arm, barely touching, a slow meandering warmth that slid around his shoulders again.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” his eyelids were heavy, so Jason let them fall shut, hoping not to dream. “Yeah, this is good.”

“Okay.”

Wally talked quietly, but continuously, as if to remind Jason that he was there. Even as tired and as near numb with emotional whiplash as he was, Jason didn’t think he’d be able to forget him. Wally was memorable even in the worst situations, but he appreciated the effort. He liked to listen to Wally talk about the everyday inconveniences, the little things that made his big thing – potential universe saving immunity – worth it.

Feeling Wally’s heartbeat against him, and the thrum of his voice in his skin, it made the horror of seeing teeth marks under the blood on his arm fade a bit.

The world was warm and syrupy for a while before other voices spoke through the fog of unconsciousness, making Jason realize he’d dozed off. And that Wally probably had too, from the way they were leaned against each other, fingers still entangled but lax.

“Oh, Wally managed it.”

That was Kori. Jason should get up. Greet the friend he hadn’t seen since the apocalypse started.

“A miracle worker, that little red.”

Hal. That meant that he wasn’t keeping Batman distracted anymore. Jason _really_ should get up.

“Would you like help moving them?”

“Nah, I got it. You mind contacting Harper and giving him an update?”

“I will do so.”

A very faint shuffling sound.

“I’ll let you know when it’s time.”

“Thank you, Hal. Get some rest.”

“Sure.”

The door slid shut again and the room was dim as Jason used monumental effort to pull his eyes open enough to look at Hal through his lashes. There was a fond expression on his tired features, and he didn’t depower, giving off a faint green light that was almost comforting.

Hal met Jason’s eyes even through the mask, and that fond expression became wry and almost amused, if strained.

“Paranoid Gotham bastard,” was muttered with a smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna shank you in your sleep.”

Green light slid out of the ring in a gentle wave and slid around Wally and Jason, another tendril of green reaching farther back into the room. The speedster at Jason’s side made a soft sound as they were lifted, hand twitching and tightening around Jason’s. It was reflex, to squeeze back.

“Hal?” He asked groggily. “Jason?”

“We’re both here, little red,” the Green Lantern assured as he set them down on the bed, covers already turned down. “I’m just making you more comfortable.”

“Should –“ rasped out of Jason’s throat as he automatically lifted himself with an elbow, too tired to fully think about being in a bed with Wally. “Should get up.”

“Nah,” green light dissipated, and Hal stepped forward to press his hands to Jason’s shoulders and make him lay flat again. “Rest. We’ve got time.”

Wally made an aggrieved sound at Jason’s side and rolled until his head was pillowed on his shoulder, making his eyes pop wide for a moment with sudden adrenaline. Red hair tickled under his chin and against his scarred throat. His heart thudded heavily in his chest as Wally slid from his shoulder onto his chest and Jason could do nothing but automatically shift his arm to make Wally more comfortable.

When he looked up at Hal, the bastard was smirking down at them, as if the heat in Jason’s face was the most amusing thing he’d ever seen.

The Green Lantern very pointedly pulled the sheets and duvet over the two of them and smoothed out the edges. Like an asshole.

Jason’s new personal hero or not he might have to punch him on principle.

Later. Definitely later.

Something indefinable slid over the man’s face before that smirk shifted into a small smile.

“Get some rest while you can. We’re gonna save all the worlds tomorrow.”

Hal was both irritating and reassuring, in an odd way. Jason made a face before glancing hesitantly down at the speedster who was knocked out on his chest, freckles dark against pale skin.

Hal stood at the side of the bed, probably to make sure that Jason didn’t crawl out of it to escape his own emotions.

Fuck it.

“Tomorrow,” Jason agreed, letting his eyes slide shut again.

Tomorrow, they’d be heroes.

Tonight, Jason was tired, and Wally was warm at his side, a comforting weight that hinted at things Jason wasn’t sure he could say.

So.

Tomorrow.

~*~

Honestly, Wally had kind of expected to wake up with Jason gone and an apologetic Kori waiting at his door while Batman fumed elsewhere.

So waking up still in practically the same position they’d ended up in the night before was a pleasant surprise. As was the fact that Jason’s pectoral muscles were beautifully sculpted and a fantastic pillow that Wally would recommend. Twelve out of ten. Full stars. Would sleep on again.

Unconsciously curling more into Jason’s solid form, Wally sighed, content on waking for the first time in a long time. Even if the Speed Force was trapped under his skin, Wally didn’t feel quite so much like clawing it off of him when someone was touching him. Probably why Hal had gotten into the habit of throwing an arm over his shoulder, grabbing his wrist or bumping their legs together.

Jason made a soft sound as Wally pressed his face into his chest, the hand he hadn’t noticed in the center of his back moving up to press against the back of his neck.

Opening his eyes as heat flooded his cheeks, Wally found himself looking at Hal sitting at the tiny dining table with a cup of coffee.

The man’s face was obscured briefly by the mug before he set it down and gave Wally one of those slow, taunting smiles that kind of made Wally insane. Hal was probably his closest friend outside of the Titans these days, and he’d told Wally several times to go for it with Jason, to test the waters even over comms.

Now there he was, slowly sipping coffee and being smug while he scrolled through some text on his ring.

_Asshole._

The thought was infinitely fond.

Hal’s gaze slid from mocking Wally over towards Jason’s face, which had the speedster twitching and realizing that his pectoral pillow was _awake_. Propping himself up a bit, Wally looked down at Jason’s Pit-green eyes as he took in a face that looked near as red as his own.

Oh.

Licking his lips, Wally couldn’t look away, suddenly stunned and speechless as Jason’s pupils dilated and his eyes darted down to watch the motion.

_Oh._

Okay, it wasn’t Hal just being Hal and making fun of him, this was actually – there was actually something there. _Between_ them, not just on Wally’s side.

“Morning,” fell from Jason’s lips, raspy and low and _oh boy._ “Is it tomorrow yet?”

While Wally continued to stare down at the pretty sight of messy dark hair with a brilliant white streak, Hal answered the strange question.

“Not yet.”

“Okay.”

And then.

Morning breath was never awesome, but the sudden exhilaration of chapped lips pressing against his own made Wally want to whoop and vibrate out of his skin. The hand on the back of his neck was gentle, so careful, as Jason exerted the tiniest amount of pressure to help Wally angle himself.

It only lasted for a handful of moments, but it was perhaps the most honest kiss that Wally had ever had.

“Okay?” Jason asked, voice still soaked in sleep, but slightly uncertain.

“Okay,” Wally assured. “Can I…?”

“Yeah.”

When Wally leaned down to return the favor, it was chaste and sweet and broke off because both of them were grinning like idiots. It was perfectly fantastic, nasty morning breath and vague disaster hanging over their heads like a shroud aside.

They shared a moment of breathless, near disbelieving laughter before Wally sat up and Jason followed, their hands falling to tangle together as they had before they’d fallen asleep.

Hal had moved him from the couch so many times after falling asleep in an awkward position that he’d only noticed it because Jason had been moved as well. Normally, being moved by the green constructs didn’t disturb him, but he also had never been tangled up with someone when Hal had moved him before. It was normal, when Hal was on the Watchtower, to know that he didn’t have aches in his back and a crick in his neck because his friend had moved him.

Now, the man was watching them with smug amusement and taking another drink of the coffee that was only in Wally’s functionless kitchen for him.

“You lovebirds ready to save the universe?” Despite the way he’d said it, Hal sounded sincere. “Or do you want a bit more time?”

Sharing a look with Jason, Wally smiled again, a question there that he couldn’t find words for, still soaking in his presence and touch.

“Yeah,” there was consideration in Jason’s tone, but no more uncertainty. “We can wait, can’t we?”

“We’ve waited this long,” Wally agreed, grip tightening on that callused hand as he smiled widely. “What’s taking a bit of time to save the universe against that?”

Jason quirked a bit of a smile before he glanced at Hal.

“There’s all those bitching sessions to look forward to, too.”

Looking a little surprised, the Lantern raised his brows in thought before snorting and shaking his head ruefully, amused.

“Alright. Gear up guys, the Guardians have sent an emergency ship for us that’ll be here in about an hour. Time to get back into the hero business.”

As Wally slid into his costume in a flash and Jason donned his gear quickly and routinely, Hal waggled his brows at him before walking out of the room.

It gave Wally another chance to smile up at Jason before he donned his helmet. For Jason to lean down and press their lips together again with a certainty of action that didn’t show in his eyes. They’d talk after everything was settled, but for now, it was good to know that the possibility was there and open on both sides.

Gotta save the world so they can live in it, after all.

Wally led Jason forward by the hand while Hal slowly walked behind them, watching their backs. When the speedster went to check on the ship and then came buzzing back to Jason’s side, he gave a quick description of the fancy space vehicle they got to use. He listened to Hal complain about having to _use_ the fancy space ship instead of FTL to return to Oa, and watched Jason flip him off which just made the Lantern grin.

Fingers entwined with Jason’s again in a brilliantly natural action and Hal snarking behind them, a steady presence, Wally felt like things might be okay.

Life had been stagnant for so long that Wally hadn’t felt like a hero. Hadn’t felt like the Flash. Whose lives had he been saving, what evil had he been fighting while stuck in the Watchtower? Now though, maybe he could be a bit of the Flash to help Jason and Hal save the universe. He’d missed the running, missed making people smile at just the sight of him, missed feeling like he deserved the hope he inspired and faith they’d put in him.

Kori greeted them at the hangar doors and attempted to kill Jason with a crushing hug that he thanked her for. She fist bumped Hal as they shared a look of solidarity – Batman was nowhere to be seen, Wally noticed – and Wally got his own hug. Kori gave _fantastic_ hugs, it was like being affectionate with a freight train.

Stepping into the ship was like walking into a purpose none of them had expected. Finding himself in Jason’s lap because a green construct dumped him there was a joy. Hal laughing as Jason called him an asshole with reluctant fondness was exhilarating.

Wally hadn’t really thought about the end of all this, of the end of the alien zombie apocalypse, or actually getting to be with Jason. With _anyone_. Now that he was, that there _was_ a chance… well.

He’d always loved running, but he’d been stuck standing still for so long. Might be that he was a little shaky, and could use some steadying hands to guide him.

Wally looked up at Hal, laughing brightly at them both, loud and obnoxious and nice. He could hear Jason’s fond huff in his ear as he muffled his amusement in Wally’s neck.

It was warm.

It had been ages since he’d run with a partner, but maybe…

Wally reached up and tugged Hal down onto the impromptu pile, grinning at the startled look on his face. Beneath their combined weight Jason grunted but otherwise didn’t complain, his grip on Wally’s waist tightening. Hal was a familiar comfort and Jason a new exciting possibility.

Maybe they could all run together.


End file.
